Yankee Go Home with Me
by smuttykitty
Summary: Northstar takes Iceman to a party and a misunderstanding ensues. Mild slash, casual drug use.


Jean-Paul stared at himself in the mirror. Zebra stripped hot pants, hacked up baby doll t-shirt that gave a beguiling view of his neck and shoulders, with the words "yankee go home with me" scrawled across the front. Slutty 6 inch heeled boots (that gave him the height he always wished for). French-flipped platinum blonde hair with a black underside a la Debbie Harry. Gratuitous eyelashes and heaps of baby blue sparkling eye shadow. The finishing touch was the fire engine red lips topped with glittery lipgloss. Then gave himself a winning smile and winked.

He was pleased with the results of his efforts.

Jean- Paul was getting ready for a Halloween party as Hedwig (of the Angry Inch fame). To test the final effect he jokingly threw his arms wide "don't you know me Kansas City, I'm the new Berlin wall. Try and tear me down." He made a derisive noise at his own silliness and flopped stomach down on the bed. He picked up the one- hitter and rooted around in his dugout until it was full. It was his intention to have a most excellent night. Flick. Inhale.

His stomach did a small curl of anticipation. He couldn't wait to get out of this fucking house for one evening. No kids, no tests, no X-men, no annoying ass straight people looking at him like he was from the freak brigade. At least for a few hours anyway.

He knew they all meant well, tried to like him as well as normal people could like him. That's what most of the X-men were. They may have been mutants but too many of them had been shipped in from white bread America. But it had been a long time since he had been able to care too much about other people's opinions, especially about him. So long that he just couldn't muster it up anymore, even when it would have been prudent.

He smoked a bit more and felt a good high settle over him. A final handbag perusal as he put his stash into it. The purse was a silly little over the shoulder that was covered with little rhinestones and fake black fur.

"Condoms, check."

"Make up, check."

"Necessary wallet items, check, check, check."

"Dope, check."

"Cigarettes, check."

"Cell phone, check."

Sigh. The final gauntlet. Undoubtedly the X-men were sitting in the kitchen (technically adjoining casual dining area, whatever), drinking beer, doing whatever they all do in their on Friday nights. He didn't care, but he was actually getting picked up tonight (to facilitate with his planned drug and alcohol intake) so that would entail actually going through said kitchen to get to the door. He could just go out the window he supposed, but ... "I look so great!" It would piss him off royally to get mussed up.

The kitchen it was. In the name of fashion preservation.

"We should go to the bar!" Bobby said.

Kurt, Logan, Alex and Bobby all sat around the kitchen table with a beer in hand or blue furry paw respectively. Everyone looked at him. He never had any money. Which meant someone would have to pay for him.

"Uhm, no." offered Alex. Kurt nodded in agreement. "We have plenty to drink here, we just need to feel a bit more... fun." he finished lamely. Kurt didn't feel much fun. He was just pretty grateful it was Friday and he could sit here and sip his beer peacefully.

"Dude, it's Halloween. We are really going to sit here?" Bobby pestered again.

"You could have gone trick or treating with Carter, Bobby. Annie invited you." Alex pointed out.

"Yeah, trick or treating with your girlfriend, rad. Where's Warren and Paige?"

" I believe cuddling is what they are calling it now days." Kurt volunteered. He gave a little laugh when Bobby pulled a face. The thought didn't appeal much to him either. He was happy for his friend, and he liked Paige well enough, but... He just assumed he was old fashioned and didn't think it was appropriate to date a girl nearly 10 years younger than him.

Logan just sat there seemingly amusing by the banter. Until he something caught his attention. He craned his neck and looked into the cooking area of the kitchen. "Hey Johnny, whatcha doing in there? Looking for a snack? Come have a sit."

Jean-Paul cursed inward. He had been trying to simply slip by as quickly as the treacherous shoes would let him (which really couldn't be taken off and replaced without a shoe horn regrettably). He knew Logan couldn't see him, had just smelled him.

"Oui, I am very hungry. As usual." He opened and closed a cupboard or two and eyed the room up for an escape. He really didn't want to go through this, just wanted to go out before his buzz wore off.

"Fuck." He gave up and grabbed his labeled bottle of Crown Royal and a can of Sprite and sauntered out to the table. "Bon soir, Logan." Positively shooting him blue daggery looks of are-you-happy-now.

A wide smile cracked Logan's face. "Why Johnny, I believe you might just be prettier than your sister!" He patted his lap somewhat lewdly, and Jean-Paul plunked down in it and stuck his feet up on the table.

"Why Logan, I already knew that. And I give better head." He replied with a smirk.

"Perhaps I will have to find out." Logan replied gamely. "Where are you going anyway, hot date?"

"Non," Jean-Paul slapped his arm. "Halloween party. I am trying to be festive. Did it work?" He took a swing of the Crown, then chased it with a swig of the Sprite.

Bobby made a spluttering noise, his eyes wide open with a mix of feelings. He didn't seem to know which part offended him: Logan's apparent lack of offense with drag, Jean-Paul presenting himself in that get up, or possibly watching the uptight man chug liquor straight from the bottle. Kurt was entertained, and Alex looked like someone had just punted a two by four up his ass.

Logan laughed and groped Jean-Paul's rather attractive fake bosom. This seemed to affect Bobby even more until Jean-Paul said "Bobby, relax. It's a joke. For fun. Yes, even I occasionally make light."

"Yeah I get it." Bobby recovered. Jean-Paul smirked a bit more at his expense. He couldn't help but be a little pleased by his discomfort.

" So if you have this party, why are you sitting on Logan's lap with us?" Kurt asked.

"Waiting for my ride. A friend was going to take a cab here and then drive my car so I can drive home tomorrow. Awfully complicated really. But it was nice of him."

"So you could get trashed?" Kurt prodded.

"Oui, something like that."

"Seriously though, you look very pretty.

"I will take that as a compliment."

"It was intended as such." Kurt gave a little gentlemanly bow.

"So where is this party?" Bobby asked.

"A house in the city. This guy I know. He always has huge parties. It's usually a good time. Lots of drugs, lots of fucking." He added the last part to needle everyone.

"Sounds like more fun than here." The younger man said in a way that seemed to be hinting.

"Do you want to go? You can if you want to." Jean-Paul felt stupid to even be saying this. It was bad enough he was holding a little flame for the boy (or so he seemed even though he couldn't be that much younger than him), but to ask him to go anywhere was just masochistic as well as potentially embarrassing.

"Really? I mean, I don't know. I just want to go out and have a good time really. That's all."

"You know Bobby, you should probably just stay here. Let Northstar do his thing. It probably isn't your uhm... scene." Alex added.

Jean-Paul rankled at Alex's comment but did agree. It wasn't going to be a tame party. It would probably (hopefully) be a coke snorting, fucking in the bathroom kind of party. And there would be lots of people, well, being all sorts of gay. He had a hard time picturing Bobby holding his beer wedged between Angelica the m to f transsexual and Bob the leather daddy. There would be some women there, probably some of the host's seemingly endless supply of fag hags who... who might be interested in Bobby. Bobby who would be showing his sensitive side by tagging along with his queer friend. Jean-Paul was irritated by how his train of thought ran aground; and how the thought of having to watch Bobby flirt with anyone would put a serious crimp in his evening.

"It will be full of queers, Bobby. Perhaps Alex is right, it probably isn't your type of fun."

"Dude, just cause I am straight doesn't mean I automatically hate all gay people."

" I am not implicating that, I just am not sure you would be comfortable there."

"I am a grownup, I know what grownups do. Let me decide what makes me comfortable."

"Very well. Are you coming then?" Jean-Paul rejoined with a sharp look. Why was he doing this to himself? He had planned on getting laid, hopefully fucking some cute young man senseless. Or scoring with his driver friend, Daniel. He was horribly good looking, a viable option.

"Yeah." Bobby said defiantly.

"Well, you had better have something to drink then. And wear something that doesn't have flowers on it." J.P. pointed at Bobby's frat boy Hawaiian shirt with distain. Obediently Bobby went back to his room and quickly returned in some handsomely faded blue jeans, and a black turtleneck. Jean-Paul couldn't help but wonder if Bobby always did what he was told so readily.

Fortunately as soon as Bobby had changed the driver had arrived. Alex let him in. Daniel was tall and model slim, dressed fantastically in expensive blue jeans and a sleevless black t-shirt which said "blowjob queen." For whatever reason he had dressed up as himself.

"I see we are advertising tonight." Jean-Paul pointed out.

"Aww, it was just for your amusement." Daniel replied around his cigarette.

Jean-Paul introduced Bobby to him, and watched Daniel look Bobby over. "He's straight."

"Yeah, I kind of figured that out." Daniel laughed. "Now let's go."

They all squished in Jean-Paul's little Audi coupe. Daniel drove, Bobby sat shotgun. Jean-Paul lay in the back and smoked more weed while nursing the bottle of Crown. This evening was already starting out wrong and the only way to deal with that would be to get completely FUCKED. UP. As soon as he got to the party he was going to find a drug dealer. He knew Daniel wouldn't care, he was a good DD.

Bobby looked hopefully at the back seat so Jean-Paul rolled a fatty and they shared it. He suspected Bobby rarely got high, and hoped he wouldn't need babysitting.

Daniel and Bobby chatted in the front seat and Jean-Paul disappeared into the upholstery until they got to the party.

They arrived uneventfully. The house was non-descript but for all the cars. The windows had paper over them, and there was a little noise spilling into the street, but certainly not enough to attract unwanted attention.

Daniel supported Jean-Paul who already had a weave in his step and shepparded Bobby into house.

"Come on, the party is in here." Daniel said to Bobby, who was busy extolling the awesomeness of the hedge next to the sidewalk.

"Your friend there is kind of cute. Is he the one you like?" Daniel asked quietly into Jean-Paul's ear.

"Using your mental powers on me?" the stoned man questioned.

"Nothing more than deduction. I was trying to figure out why you were getting obliterated all by yourself in the back seat. I think I figured it out." Daniel wrapped his arm around his friend's skinny waist.

"I don't know why I told him he could come. I was just going to try and have fun. Get laid." He was suddenly on auto-witter and would not stop. "I don't really like him that much. He is very straight. It's lust. He sort of... charms me." In a moment he was going to physically clamp his mouth shut. He didn't need to explain himself, to anyone.

"Chill. He doesn't know, and I am not going to say. Besides he wanted to come, maybe he's curious."

"Ha! No, he's not. Just desperate to escape the X-men for one night."

"Aren't we all." Daniel replied drolly. "Aren't we all."

Finally they all made it inside. The host looked like Dr. Frankenfurter, and the rest of the party helpers continued on with the Rocky Horror theme.

Bobby started to make a bee-line for the bar area but Jean-Paul grabbed his arm. "Hey, you don't smoke often, why don't you just see how you feel. Do you need some water or something?" The fact that he was being helpful meant he needed more drugs and/or booze.

"Yeah," Bobby smiled widely. "I totally want some..... soda!" Like he was pronouncing who the next Pope was.

"I'll see what I can do."

Bobby tailed Jean-Paul into the kitchen where he got him one of someone's Sprites. Jean-Paul introduced him around a bit, then scored some coke and did a line to pick himself up after all the liquor and pot. He felt pretty good and decided to socialize.

The first good looking guy who gave him the eye he snagged to dance. He was hard bodied and a good dancer. They started making out on the dance floor and Jean-Paul didn't care what Iceman thought about him. He could be a slut if he wanted to be. They let up when they noticed red lipstick had gotten all over the place. Mr. Hardbody laughed good naturedly and Jean-Paul excused himself to the restroom.

Bobby intercepted him looking more shit faced than when he had left him. Alarmingly more.

"Are you okay?" He really didn't want him throwing up on anybody, or in his car when that point came.

"Yeah. I'm fine. I am having a good time. Et vous?" Bobby answered with a mildly flirtatious laugh.

"Oui, drunken boy." Jean-Paul answered with a little flirting of his own.

"I am sure that dude you were making out with agrees."

Jean-Paul smiled uneasily and looked away. He didn't want to think that he cared what Bobby might think about him. "Did it offend you?"

"No. But, if you dressed like that more often you might get more dates. I think you might secretly be one of the hottest girls at the mansion. Why don't you get cleaned up then come dance with me instead for awhile? "

Jean-Paul was full of conflict as he went into the bathroom. He knew it was just a friendly offer, but he couldn't help the way it made him feel. It embarrassed him how excited he felt about it, little sparks of electricity up his spine. Why was he doing this? Why now, especially when there were a whole bunch of eligible guys here, just waiting to be hit on.

With a smile he greeted the Iceman back on the dance floor. Bobby, in a strangely suave move for him, put his hands on Jean-Paul's waist and pulled him in to dance. Obligingly Jean-Paul moved in and gave a little laugh.

"Why Bobby, you certainly know how to come on to a girl."

"Heh. Maybe that is why no one wants to go out with me."

Jean-Paul caught the bad double entendre and whacked Bobby's arm with a smirk.

" I am more inclined to think it is because of comments like that." He felt himself smiling. It made him feel foolish and he fought the urge to cover it with his hand. Instead he looked away unconsciously.

"Why do you do that?" Bobby asked, moving his head to look Jean-Paul straight on. "Let me guess, you don't want anyone to know you can smile?"

" I... I don't know. I just do." He answered vaguely.

"Well, you shouldn't. It's better when you smile."

"I will take it under consideration." Jean-Paul said archly.

"See, that, don't do that. Be nice, smile." Bobby chided.

"Okay, for you, one night only, I will try." His blue eyes sparkled playfully.

"I'm honored." A few beats of silence. "Do you like here, I mean at the mansion?"

Northstar considered his answer for a few moments. He wasn't quite sure how he felt about it. Particularly after he got busted down to mere teacher and back up. Teaching wasn't quite what he wanted to do when he grew up, and he definitely missed the excitement of superheroing.

"It's not bad. It's nice to be in one place for awhile. I don't tend to be too... settled when left to my own devices. How about you? You have lived there most of your life, do you like it?"

"Yeah, I like it, I mean it's my home." Bobby answered shortly with a little shrug.The subject was obviously closed for him.

They danced companionably, and as the dance floor filled up they were pushed closer together. Jean-Paul kept waiting for Bobby to get uncomfortably being pushed up against him, surrounded by an ocean of shirtless, sweaty men. But he just kept smiling away at him.

"Robert, why did you come out with me tonight?" He looked the other man straight into his eyes.

"I wanted to. Believe it or not I've led a rather sheltered life in away." He answered with a smile and little wiggle of his eyebrows.

"Yes, I had rather noticed."

"In a way you are one of the first gay people I have ever known."

"I take it you never went to Times Square before Disney bought it?" Jean-Paul had to laugh a little at Bobby's naiveté. He really couldn't imagine how someone could grow up in a large city, especially New York and not have at least been a little bit exposed to queer culture, but he wasn't going to tease him about it now. It was too nice to have Bobby's attention to wreck it by being himself. He jumped a little in surprise as Bobby's hands drifted up to his wig. First just idly stroking it, then pushing it away from Jean-Paul's face. Then tentatively moving down to his shoulders, tracing a line from his neck over a plastic bra strap and shoulder shoulder, then back up to his chin.

Just that gentle touching was making it hard for Jean-Paul to breathe. Had it really been that long since someone had stroked him that way? Too much more contact and he was going to have a hard on.

"What are you doing Robert?" His voice getting husky against his will.

"Touching you." Both hands moving across his shoulders up his neck. He could smell the alcohol and smoke on Bobby's breath. It was a little arousing.

"I know. Why?" Jean-Paul looked at him with heavy lidded eyes.

"I want to." Bobby's thick hands were cupped behind his ears, his thumbs idling across his jaw.

"It seems to be the theme for the night."

"Maybe it is."

Suddenly Bobby's mouth was pushing against his in a fumbly but not unpleasant kiss. Jean-Paul arched his body involuntarily into Bobby's heavier frame. His pulse pounded in his throat as open- mouthed kisses started to work down from his ear. And the whole thing screeched to a halt when Bobby's hand landed on his breast. His fake, non-existent, plastic breast.

Jean-Paul narrowed his eyes as he pushed off Bobby's chest and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. Bobby looked baffled as he said "What?"

"What?" Jean-Paul spat with contempt. "I should be asking you that. What the fuck are you doing?"

"I..I..I don't know." Bobby stammered out, and ran a hand through his hair.

"Exactly. Whatever is going on here, its not what you think. I am not a woman. When you wake up tomorrow you will remember that. I am a man. A man with a cock. Remember?" He spun on his heel and started walking at high speed out of the house. He had to get out of here. This was... intolerable. Completely unbearable.

Bobby caught up to him and grabbed his arm.

"Hey, hey. Stop."

"What?" Jean-Paul knew his face was stony but inside he felt like he had been punched.

"I'm sorry." Bobby was trying to look at him, but couldn't seem to figure out where he wanted to focus.

"Yeah." Jean-Paul patted his shoulder and started walking away.

"Where are you going?"

"Home. It's time to go home.I'm wasted, you're wasted. This is when it's time to go." He rubbed at his eyes, didn't care that make-up was getting ruined. God, he felt old. Really old. Too old for this shit if nothing else.

They took a cab home together in silence. Jean-Paul would just pick up his car another day. Bobby kept looking over at him, but he just leaned into the corner and kept looking straight ahead, hands folded between his legs.

As they walked up the stairs to the mansion Jean-Paul turned to Bobby. Saw the sad, confused expression in his brown eyes. It didn't matter though.

"Good night." He said.

"Good night, JP."

Jean-Paul went to his room and sat on the bed. He sighed, and felt his heart close up a little more.


End file.
